“Maga! Hi! It’s Abby!”
“Who is it, please?”
I repeated myself at a shout-ier level than normal in an attempt to be heard over the TV.
“Oh, hi,” Maga said. “The TV is very loud. Let me ask my caregiver to turn it down.”
If Maga thought the TV was too loud?!? I tried to start a fresh topic now that she could hear me. “How was your day?”
“I haven’t had a very exciting day, but it was good enough.”
“Ditto,” I shouted twice more.
We covered what town I lived in, where I was working from, why my office was closed, when I graduated from college, why I hadn’t visited her yet, how often I usually visit her, and where else I’d traveled to this year. That may seem like a lot, but in actuality, our conversation at this point was more start and stop than circular.
“What town do your parents live in?” Maga asked.
I told her. She asked me if they lived in my town. I told her no and rattled off their town name again.
“Is that the house Cathy’s mom and dad built?”
I paused. “You’re Cathy’s mom.”
“Did I build the house?”
“I don’t think so.”
We both chuckled at the absurdity of her swinging a hammer.
“Did you call me or did I call you?” Maga asked.
“I called you.”
“You usually call me on Saturday. Is today Saturday?”
“I usually call on Tuesdays. Today’s Tuesday.”
“Oh, Tuesday. Yes, that’s our talkative day. You can call me other days, you know.”
“Yes, I know. I will.”
“Oh, honey bun. I wish you were here.”
“Me too.”
“Where do you work?”
“[Big Name University.]”
“[Big Name University] Press, right?”
“Yes! Very good!”
“I got that one right.”
“Very well done, Maga.”
“Let’s say goodbye now and wait for the next time.”
Abrupt, yes, but she certainly has a knack for how to end a conversation on a high note!
Abigail Mumford 